


Tendencies - Extras

by KryallaOrchid



Series: Tendencies [5]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-08 07:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11076525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KryallaOrchid/pseuds/KryallaOrchid
Summary: Missing and expanded moments from my Tendencies Series (Obsession, Glaze and Quiver).





	1. Scritch

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my tumblr for a while, but I decided to do it, and all the other Tendencies Shorts up so they were good enough for here. 
> 
> If you haven’t read the Tendencies series, its starts with Obsession, then Glaze, then Quiver and you really do need to read them to understand these shorts. It starts of MariChat and evolves to a relationship fic from there.
> 
> There’s a whole bunch of these shorts, from all over the Tendencies series, even a few that are way, way into the future. There’s even some that tumblr hasn’t seen yet. So, if you have any requests, please do let me know!
> 
> Why am I publishing these now? Well, recently I [published my first novel](http://rikkaine.tumblr.com/published) and I wanted to make sure all of my readers were aware, because some of you have been waiting a very, very long time for my original work. I am so so excited to share my original work with you.
> 
> Eee!
> 
> Anyway, let me know if there’s anything from Tendencies you want to see expanded or an alternative view on or just want to see in general.
> 
> Scritch is a prequel to Obsession, set just after Chat Noir’s first visit to Marinette for scratches.

 

It was only supposed to be once. A sudden, desperate need which had been sated by clever fingers from a classmate who, he’d thought, had been in the right place at the right time.

Except, within a week, the itch was back. A niggle down his spine. A tickle between his shoulder blades. A spot he couldn’t quite reach on his own and even when he did manage to find it with his fingers, it moved. Whatever this was, he wasn’t supposed to be the one who scratched it.

“Just go back to that girl,” Plagg advised, buried in a box of Camembert. “Marinette. She was good and she helped.”

“Easy for you to say,” Adrien muttered, lying flat on his back on his bed and resisting the urge to rub against the mattress to alleviate some of the cravings for physical contact. It wasn’t overwhelming, but he knew… he knew it would become like last time. An unsuitable need that would send him careening across Paris in need of relief. “You don’t have to look her in the eye the next day at school.”

“It’s not like she knows it’s you. ‘Sides,” Plagg continued and gulped a large piece of cheese, then continued to talk around it. “Pretty girl. Scratches.”

“I’m not going to use her,” Adrien said. “That’s not fair.”

“Scratches don’t mean anything to a human,” Plagg continued.

“It means something to me. She put her hands all over me!”

Plagg smirked at him. “And you  _liked_ it.”

He felt a flush creeping up over his neck. “What if I did? It doesn’t mean it’s right!”

“It’s the nature of the kitty,” Plagg continued, serious more serious this time. “Sorry, kid, there’s no way around it. We _like_ scratches. It doesn’t matter who it’s from. Anyone can do it. Nino. Alya. Your father.”

That thought appalled him. “Oh. God.”

“But if it really concerns you, ask Ladybug.”

Adrien covered his face with his hands. “She’d do it,” he muttered. “She’d do it to help me, but it… it wouldn’t be right. She’d do it out of duty. But she wouldn’t understand. She’d think I was making it up.”

“And what? You think Marinette did it out of love? Don’t be naïve.”

Adrien sighed. “Marinette’s too sweet for her own good.”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Plagg said. “Preferably before the need gets too great and you can’t explain things to her. She’s already done it once.”

Adrien wrinkled his nose.

Plagg smirked and floated toward Adrien. “Unless you want _me_ to scratch you.”

“Oh.  _God_. Plagg, Claws out.”

He found Marinette was on her terrace, bathed in starlight, and tended to the few potted plants she had. Crouching near the edge of the roof of the school, Chat Noir watched, still unsure and nervous. He couldn’t just land on her roof and ask for scratches. Could he?

_“Excuse me, Marinette, but this kitty has an itch which needs scratching and your hands are purr-fection.”_

Nope. He couldn’t. Couldn’t do it. It was too embarrassing. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he closed his eyes. He’d just have to find another way to deal with this. Somehow. There had to be a way. Past Chat Noirs had to have dealt with something like this, he just had to bribe Plagg with enough cheese to get an answer out of him.

The space between his shoulder blades have a restless twitch, but he could ignore it for the moment. He couldn’t do subject poor Marinette to his stupid cat side-effects.

“Chat?”

His eyes flashed open to see Marinette tilting her head at him. She looked confused as she glanced up and down her street before her eyes travelled back to him.

He cringed. Busted. Swallowing, he ran along the side of the school until he had the speed to launch himself over the street and onto the railing of her terrace. There he paused, crouching. “Um…”

She looked concerned. “Is anything wrong?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “No. Not exactly.”

She cast a glance around, looking out into the cool Parisian night. “An akuma?”

“No. I… um… I came to see you.” Hopping down from the railing, he crouched by it.

Bewildered, she asked, “Why?”

He dropped his eyes and completely forgot what he was going to say. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

She eeped and dropped her little watering can. Her entire face went red. “What?”

He cringed. As Adrien, he was pretty sure she didn’t, but he didn’t know for certain. She always was so terrified to talk to him at school.  “Sorry. I just… last time I came here— and I… I realised… that what happened could put you in a little bit of… um… trouble. If you were… attached.”

“Oh!” she squeaked and scooped up her watering can so she could place it on the small bench beside her plants. “Um. No. I mean… well, there’s a guy I like, but he doesn’t… he doesn’t see me… So… No. No boyfriend. No trouble.”

He thought about that. “So, my princess has a blind prince?”

Her face discovered an entirely new shade of red. “You could say that. Wait,  _your_ princess?”

He dropped his eyes and didn’t reply. The itch between his shoulder blades grew and he wriggled.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “You seem… tense.”

“Um… this is… this is really awkward and kind of strange… but… and I can understand completely if you say no. But… um… it really… it really helped last time and so I was wondering… if you… could you… um…” He couldn’t ask for it. Not really. Scrunching up his face, he lifted a hand and battered at his fake ear.

“Oh!” A soft movement and Chat Noir opened his eyes in time to see Marinette fold her legs gracefully beneath her until she sat on the floor of her terrace. “Of course.”

“Really?” he asked, shocked. No questions? No concerns? Just yes? What did he do to deserve this sort of acceptance?

With a smile, she beckoned. “Here, kitty-kitty.”

Regardless of the poor taste of her humour, he bounced over to her. Stopping just before her, he all but thrust his head into the palm of her hand.

With a giggle, Marinette buried her hands into his hair and Chat Noir closed his eyes. Deft fingers, she remembered from the last time. Nails dug into his skull, hard enough to please the itch, but not hard enough to cause pain. He led her, as much as he could, angling his head and pushing against her fingers.

But Marinette… _Marinette_. She didn’t listen to his coaxing. She had an agenda of her own and that was to tease and tempt him. He lolled his head and pushed into her hand and as he did that, a finger stroked him on the chin and suddenly  _that_ was more interesting and he had to have more. But she took her hand away, put it somewhere else and he followed.

His face rubbed against her shoulder and he wasn’t sure why he did that. Something about marking sprung to mind, but he didn’t care. She was magnificent. The face rubbing continued, up her shoulder, to the crevice of her neck and he breathed in her scent.

Did she mind? He didn’t know. But she wasn’t pushing him away. It even seemed like the pressure of her fingers on his head allowed for his face rubs.

It was astounding how much her attention relaxed him. He wasn’t even really aware of what his body was doing, he was so focused on following the pressure ( _pleasure_ ) of her fingers. She didn’t make a single noise of protest when he crawled into her lap and flopped so his chest was against her knees. The only thing she did was change the spot she scratched him.

Scritch, scratch. The base of his neck. Behind his ears, both real and fake. Fingers against his skull, extending and flexing as they covered as much of it as they could. Fingers that found the sweet spots against his head, beneath his chin. Down the middle of his spine. Scratchy little fingers that bestowed their attention on every single vertebrae along his back. That delighted and explored and…

That spot. That spot was like  _lightning_. It sizzled through him, sparking up his spine, right down to his toes. A purr burst in this throat, pouring from his body like silk. He  _arched_ , desperate for more. Harder. Firmer.

_Please. Right there._

And then her touch was completely gone. And he  _mourned_.

“I’m sorry!”

Chat Noir blinked and looked at Marinette’s horrified face. Another blink and he took in the position of his body. Of his hips. Of how his torso pressed against her knees, but his legs were fully extended and his hips were… his  _butt_ was…

_Oh god._

“I didn’t know!”

He was stuck. His legs didn’t want to lower.

Eyes wide with horror, all he could do was stare at her. “Um…”

“Err…”

Gulping, Marinette scratched him beneath the chin and Chat Noir flopped as his muscles turned into goo. She stopped and he scooted away from her, staring wide-eyed and completely embarrassed.

“I didn’t know,” she said, not quite looking at him.

“Me either,” he replied, not quite looking at her.

She cleared her throat. “Um…”

“Err…”

She puffed out a breath. “I didn’t know you could purr.”

He snort-laughed. “Me either.”

“You’re… _that_ much of a cat?”

“Yeah. I guess. It’s… my kw—  it’s a side effect of being a hero.”

Marinette nodded, her expression veiled. “So… the pats are...  it’s helping you, right? It’s something you need?”

He swallowed and looked away. “Yeah. But…um… I mean… I can…” Why was it so hard to explain without giving too much away? “I can get them from anyone, but yours… yours are… I trust you.”

“You do?”

He snorted. “Can you imagine if I went to Alya and demanded pats like any other kitty might? It’d be up on the Ladyblog the next day and Ladybug’d never take me seriously again.”

Marinette giggled. “Well, there is that.”

“I understand if you don’t want to. It’s… a lot to ask and… I mean… ”

She seemed to come to a decision within herself. Throwing her shoulders back, she said, “Well. I’ll just stay clear of…um… the small of your back…”

His eyes shot to her.

She gave him an unsure-but-game smile. “And we never mention that spot again.”

He was purr-fectly okay with that.


	2. Sulk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug is frustrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Please remember that the Tendencies series was written based on the first thirteen episodes, and before we got the origin episodes, so I had to make up my own. In it, Ladybug was around for a lot longer than Chat Noir was._   
>  _Set: Prior to Obsession_

 

Ladybug was frustrated. 

Her kitty hadn’t visited for nearly a month now, without an explanation, and... And she hated how inadequate and anxious that made her. He said he trusted her. That he enjoyed her company. That she understood what he was going through.

So, why hadn’t he come back? Was he getting his itch scratched somewhere else?

Ladybug shook her head. That was silly. She didn’t own him. She was just helping her partner deal with his stupid miraculous side effects. If he wanted to get scratched from somewhere else.... well he could just go there all the time! She didn’t care! She’d be perfectly happy if he never came back again and she could go back to adoring Adrien without feeling like she was being torn in two!

“Anything wrong, bugaboo?”

Nope. Nudda. Not a thing. She sighed and rotated her shoulders to loosen tense muscles. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You seem tense.”

 Ladybug stood and stretched out her legs, being careful to avoid Chat Noir’s gaze. “Gonna call it, Chat. I’ve got a mountain of homework to do.”

“Oh,” Chat Noir said, rising from his kitty crouch to place one hand over his heart and bow to her. “Very well, my lady, and may I say—”

Ladybug didn’t stick around to hear whatever flirtatious remark or witty pun he was going to deliver tonight. She didn’t stop moving until she dropped through her trap door and released her transformation.

Tikki spiralled free and zipped down to the plate of cookies Marinette had left beside her computer. Fetching one, she floated back up. “We finished patrol early today.”

Marinette sighed and headed to the stairs. “Yeah, I know. I just… wasn’t feeling it today.”

Tikki nodded. “You have been out of sorts lately.”

Flopping at her computer, Marinette wiggled the mouse, then sat back to wait for her computer to come out of power saving mode. “Yeah, I know.”

Tikki landed on Marinette’s shoulder and nuzzled into her neck. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Marinette sighed. “Boy troubles…”

“Adrien or Chat?” Tikki asked.

Marinette laughed. “You know, I would never have expected to hear _both_ of them in the same sentence.”

Tikki giggled. “Things change.”

“They do,” Marinette said. She sighed. “Do you think he’s getting pats from someone else?”

“Well—”

“And what if Adrien finds out I’ve been patting Chat? I mean, it is kinda weird when you think about it. What if he asks me to stop? What’ll Chat do? Would he just… keep going to that other person? What if I lose the chance to pat him forever? How is he going to be when he finds out what I’m like in winter? What if Chat figures out why I have so many pictures of Adrien? How do I continue to juggle this?”

“Ahh,” Tikki said, her high-pitched voice ruining the sage sound of realisation. “I see.”

“What? What do you see?”

“You _like_ him.”

Marinette’s head reared back. “Of course I like him. He’s my partner.”

Boots sounded against her ceiling and Marinette glanced up as Tikki made herself scarce. “Speak of the devil,” she said and waited for the scratch against her trapdoor.

She wasn’t disappointed. “Princess?” came with a pitiful meow and a scratch against the glass of her trap door.  

She wondered what would happen if she ignored the scratching at her door. If he was like any other cat, he’d probably keep scratching and howling and disturb the whole neighbourhood. Sighing, she got to her feet to let her wayward kitty in.

He landed on the bed in a crouched-kitty position and grinned madly at her. “Good evening, Princess!” he chirped, happy. Standing, he offered her a marigold stalk with three flowers scattered along its stem. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by at this late hour.”

Marigolds. She’d save that for a snack later. “Tasty.”

He blinked. “What?”

Marinette’s eyes widened, her lips parted in a part-grin, part-grimace. “Pretty,” she corrected. “It’s pretty. Why are you bringing me flowers?”

He cringed. “I… um… well,” he elongated the word. “I’m… kind of buttering you up.”

“You should’ve brought buttercups then,” she quipped.

He brightened. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Why are you buttering me up?”

Chat Noir rolled his shoulders. His ears deflated and she could swear he suddenly developed a bad case of Puss-In-Boot eyes. “I was… trying to see how long I could go without bothering you for pats… turns out a month is… a little long.”

“And now it’s urgent?”

He lifted his hand and showed her his finger and thumb, close together. “I’m this close to rubbing all over your legs.”

“I appreciate your restraint.” Moving to the head of her bed, she propped her large kitty cushion up behind her back and sat against the wall.

Chat Noir crouched down beside her and pressed his head into her waiting hand. In the blink of an eye, he turned from ‘she’d-never-admit-he-was-a-handsome-boy’ to ‘oh-my-goodness-adorable-kitten’.

His purr thundered in his chest, reverberating through the room and he flopped beside her, his chest to her legs and an arm over her lap.

“Silly kitten,” Marinette said, using both hands to scratch the spot behind his ears. “You shouldn’t have waited.”

He mewed and tilted his head so she could get a better angle. Burying his face in the crevice between her leg and the bed, he shuddered out a sigh. The hand across her lap gently tugged on the fabric of her jacket. His purr intensified as she found the base of his neck and used her nails against the nape.

She moved to his shoulders, scraping her nails against the magical material of his suit and he arched into her fingers.

He mumbled something and she had to work hard to hear his muffled words. “You are wonderful.”

“So… you weren’t gallivanting off getting pats from… anyone else?”

“You wound me, Princess,” he said, raising his head and blinked his eyes at her. “I am a loyal kitty.”

She couldn’t describe how relieved (pleased) that made her feel. “What if Ladybug wanted to pat you?”

Rolling onto his back, he tucked his head against her thigh and curved. He offered her her his throat, ignoring the question in favour of purring. Marinette obliged him, walking her fingers along his throat to his chin, while her other hand itched the top of his chest.

Marinette smiled to herself as she continued to pet him. Seeing him lost in the haze of pats like this, purring and mewing at her, was invigorating. She did this. Her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Not Ladybug.

Ladybug, her infamous other half. Ladybug, who could do no wrong, who everyone, including Chat Noir, loved and adored. Marinette knew why, (she _hated_ why), people were always so calm and collected around her. Her tendency.

It wasn’t just the sleepiness in winter she’d inherited, nor the preference for eating flowers as a snack. No, the reason so many people were so confident and clear-sighed around her, able to act rationally instead of fleeing in terror, was the pheromones she’d been gifted with. Phermemones that only activated when she was suited up. Or so she’d been told.

Which, in spite of what Tikki assured her, was why she couldn’t trust Chat’s proclamations and flirting. He’d arrived _after_ her pheromones had activated, and she couldn’t be sure that they weren’t working on him.

Until he’d arrived at _her_ rooftop, until he’d come to _her_ begging for help for a very physical tendency he couldn’t control. _Her_. Not Ladybug. No pheromonal scent in range.

 And she’d helped him because she cared about him and it was a way for her get to know him without that looming over her head. Because no one could truly understand a tendency unless they had one too.

He was easy to talk to, much easier to deal with when he wasn’t trying to flirt with her every two seconds. Just interacting with Chat Noir on casual basis helped her see her partner in a new light. She was noticing all these wonderful qualities she’d never had a chance to see before. He had oodles of advice about her ‘blind prince’ and she’d even tried some of them out… sort of … Maybe next time she’d actually get the words out.

Chat Noir had a nice laugh, a nice smile. He could be funny too. He was great at games. He was considerate and kind, and never ever demanded more than she was willing to offer. He always stayed in neutral areas and even when he was haze-deep in kitty-pats and barely aware of his surroundings, he was always, _always_ aware of her and her comfort.

Plus, he made such cute noises as he climbed on her lap to get pats and his purr was the most _adorable_ thing she’d ever heard and she just loved—

Marinette’s hands stilled in his hair and Chat Noir mewed out a protest, pushing further against her hands.

Oh _shit_.

 


	3. Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's thoughts in Chapter 7 of Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested.

# Spiral

He lied to her.

He lied. _He lied he lied he lied_.

He knew all along. Somehow. He knew she was Ladybug, that’s why he came to her. That’s why he didn’t mind getting pats from her. That’s why he didn’t care when she offered to tell him who she was.

He knew and he lied and she’d fallen for both sides of him and she didn’t understand.

Her mind was in turmoil.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He said that. When he said that, she believed him. It wasn’t him. It was her. But it felt like it was him and now her mind, in its grief and confusion, was playing cruel tricks on her.

He lied.

No, he didn’t.

He _lied_.

If he lied, why did he react that way when she’d forgotten herself and patted him as Ladybug?

He tricked you.

Why was he so concerned about her feelings? Why had he confessed that Ladybug had patted him? If he’d thought they were the same…

He’s a deceiver. You’ll never know if he loves you for you. Or because he’s forced to by Ladybug.

That’s not fair. Tikki says—

“I say what, Marinette?” Tikki asked, snuggled up in Marinette’s neck. “Talk to me, my little bug.”

Tears leaked from her eyes constantly and she no longer had the energy to wipe them away. Marinette curled into a ball in the corner of her bed, feeling the walls from both sides press against her and offer comfort. “It’s the pheromones. It has to be. It was never me.”

Tikki made a soothing sort of buzz. “I promise you; they don’t work on him.”

She didn’t— couldn’t— believe that. “Ladybugs of the past have had the mating pheromone. You told me that.”

“I told you that to show you I can tell the difference between them. You were gifted with the ‘safe and warmth’ scent. Not the mating one. That one is very rare, and usually only happens with certain pairs.”

“But—”

Tikki nuzzled. “Marinette, I wouldn’t lie to you. Ours is a partnership based on trust and love. Yes, while Ladybug and Chat Noir are eternally tangled together, you get to _choose_ how that relationship is. Friends, lovers, enemies. Plagg and I have seen them all, but we’ve always let our bugs and kits make their choices.”

Marinette sighed, dejected.

“Plagg’s female kits going into estrus is so much worse than a ladybug’s mating call. At least with ours, we get to call a particular kind of partner.”

Marinette hugged herself tighter. “Poor Chat.”

Tikki snorted. “He’s a _boy_ cat, Marinette. He’ll probably get in a predisposition to smooch more during spring.”

That made her giggle, even if it was a sad and lonely splutter of laughter. “What do I do, Tikki?”

“You talk to him. You tell him who you are. You tell him why you’re scared.”

Marinette whimpered and curled up tighter. “I don’t know how. What if he doesn’t… what if… I ran _away_ , Tikki. I ran and I’m scared of what this all means and what if he doesn’t want me and what if he does? The pheromones are always going to be there, I’m always going to wonder if it’s me or them, because I see it. It’s everywhere.”

“I know, little buglet,” Tikki soothed. “I know it’s hard, but you’re the one who has to fix this. You asked him for time, he’s given it to you. But you have to take that step. Decide if he’s worth the risk.”

Marinette swallowed.

“And write it all down,” Tikki suggested. “That way… if you can’t speak or fumble, you have something to fall back on.”

Nodding, Marinette crawled toward her diary and opened it to a blank page.

* * *

_~~Ladybugs have this scent… Natural Ladybugs… some breeds of Ladybugs…~~ _

_~~You know how you have this… need for pats and prone to cat at ridiculous times. Well… congratulations, you’re not alone!~~ _

_~~I need to bug you, furr-real~~ _

_~~Birds and bees and…~~ _

_~~Pheromones. You’re attracted to me ‘cause I stink.~~ _

_~~I ate those buttercups you gave me. Why? Bee-cause I’m a bug in the same way you’re a cat.~~ _

_There are things about me that you don’t know. Things I’ve been too scared to tell you. Things that if I don’t, what we have will break and… you mean more to me than anything in this world and I can’t let that break._

_Chat, I’m so scared you only like me because **my** tendency compels you to. _

_I’m Ladybug._

* * *

Staring at the back of Adrien’s head for hours on end, feeling the waves of misery rolling from him, and knowing that, even as he turned his head to talk to Nino, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, tore away at Marinette’s confidence.

Stiff-backed. Tone harsh. Was she the only one who could hear it? Every word cut at her, sliced her up. Every noise he made, every second he didn’t look at her, it tore her inside.

By the time the lunchtime bell sounded, she was an absolute wreck.

Words failed her. The speech she had prepared forgotten. Courage fled the classroom, following Alya and Nino on swift wings.

Adrien sat, staring straight ahead.

Marinette sat, staring at the back of his head. Maybe, if he turned around, she’d find the courage to speak.

He didn’t, and she twisted her fingers, causing herself pain as she desperately tried to remember what she’d wanted to tell him. Her mouth opened and closed, but the words wouldn’t come.

It was simple, wasn’t it? She had a speech. She just needed to speak.

_Please look at me. It’ll be alright if you looked at me. I promise, I’ll tell you everything, please just look at me._

Plagg peeked at her from Adrien’s bag. He gestured, his face earnest, trying to give her the support she needed. Tikki too, her little paws on Marinette’s arm.

All she had to tell him was that she was Ladybug. She was his lady and she was scared and…

Adrien’s words echoed through her mind; _Imagine if you were Ladybug too, everything would be perfect!_

Marinette flinched.

Adrien’s phone beeped and he moved toward it like a dying man desperate for water. He pushed away from the desk. “Well. Guess that answers that question.”

No. No, he couldn’t leave. She had to fix this. She had to stop him. As he neared the door, she blurted. “I don’t know what to say.”

He stopped and kept his back to her. “Saying nothing isn’t the solution.”

Why wouldn’t he look at her? Please. She needed to know if he saw her, Marinette, or whether he saw Ladybug instead. “I practiced,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. “I practiced and I wrote it down and I can’t remember any of it.”

“There you are!” Chloé said, bursting through the door. “Come on, Adrien. I’m treating you to lunch. I’ve already cleared it with your driver.” Chloé’s eyes slid to Marinette and her smile went sinister. “We don’t need to waste time on her.”

Adrien agreed with an ease that tore Marinette’s heart from her chest. “Yeah, okay.”

The door clicked closed behind him and Marinette melted against the desk.

“Marinette?” Tikki asked, her voice soft.

“No,” Marinette said, and bashed her head against the table as she tried to knock some sense into herself.

“Marinette?”

“Uh-ah. Nope. No. It’s _not_ going to end this way.” She scrambled, snatching up her bag and her fabric and marched toward the door. “I’ll tell him in front of Chloé if I have to.”

Opening the door, Marinette came face-to-face with an akuma and all thought of confessing everything fled.

It took Marinette a heartbeat to determine what kind of akuma this was and another one to come up with a plan. Slamming the door shut, she yanked her cuddleskin from the bag.

“Marinette?” Tikki asked.

“After,” Marinette promised, more sure of herself than ever before and spread the cuddleskin out on the closest table. Taking a deep breath, and hoping that the lucky charm would extend to fixing her fabric, she cut.

Chat Noir was going to come for her, because he was Chat Noir and no matter what was going on, he wouldn’t be able to help himself.

What needed to be said _would_ be said, after this was all over. Until then, she had a job to do.


	4. Sit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a box in this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Set between Obsession and Glaze._

Marinette thought that one of the best things about having a cat inclined boyfriend (beyond the purr which was absolutely divine and on par with kisses) was how it came out at odd times. Like following a laser pointer. Playing with her wool when she wasn’t looking. Knocking her ornaments over when she _was_ looking.

Or a preference to sit in boxes.

But the most fun, she thought, was trying to get that side of him to come out, without telling him she was deliberately baiting that side of him.

Being the daughter of a baker meant she had access to all sorts of boxes. Big boxes. Small boxes. Chat-sized boxes. And being the daughter of a baker meant that Tom was often in bed before the sun went down (especially in summer) and Sabine wasn’t far behind him.

And while Adrien, her wonderful boyfriend, would never be allowed to be in her room while her parents were sleeping and certainly never with her trap door closed (conversations pending), they didn’t know about Chat Noir. As long as she and Chat Noir were quiet, her parents couldn’t hear him gallivanting about from their bedroom two floors down.

And _maybe_ that was stretching the rules and certainly would get her in trouble, they weren’t doing anything that she’d be embarrassed to tell her parents.

Summer in Paris was absolutely wonderful. Sunset at ten meant at nine, when the sun was sinking, it caught in the various crystals she’d hung around the room and delighted one kitten as they swung. Marinette could hear the soft pitter-patter of scampering feet as Chat Noir chased rainbows while waiting for her.

While she was absolutely sure he’d come down and help her finish the dishes if she asked him, just hearing the soft little thumps and saddened little mews as the rainbow escaped brought a smile to her face.

She waited, listening carefully to his antics and could pick the exact moment when he saw the box she’d left for him in her room. He skidded to a halt and then everything went silent.

Tikki, bobbing in the air beside Marinette’s shoulder, giggled.

Casting her kwami a conspiring glance, Marinette wiped the kitchen bench down, washed her hands and went upstairs to her room.

The box, previously tucked away in the corner, was in the center of the room. Right in front of the stairs. Where she couldn’t miss it. Upside down.

Marinette ignored it. “Hmm. I thought I heard Chat up here,” she told Tikki as she closed the trap door to her room.

“Perhaps he got bored and went home,” Tikki said.

“Ahh, well,” Marinette said, tapping her fingers against the top of the box as she moved past it and headed to her computer.

The box jutted after her, stuttered little movements as it kitty-hopped across the floor.

Tikki and Marinette grinned at each other. “Such a shame,” Tikki said, joining in the game.

Marinette lounged in her computer chair, watching the boxes jagged movements across the floor to her. “Who’s going to eat all these macarons?”

The box mewed.

Marinette overdramatised how upset she was. “I brought them special and all.”

The box bumped her knee and she heard scratches against it.

Tikki giggled, covering her mouth with her paw.

Marinette drummed her fingers against the top of the box and felt Chat Noir’s hands thump against it. Still drumming, she moved them across the top and down the sides, hearing the scratchy little sounds his claws made against the inside of the box as he followed the path of her fingers.

Sliding out of the chair, she sat on the floor beside the box and drummed her fingers on the floor, right near the hand holds cut into the box.

A black-clad hand snaked out of the hand hold and tapped her fingers, then disappeared.

Marinette giggled. Reaching up to her desk, she grabbed the box of macarons she’d left up there and retrieved one. Holding her palm flat, she offered the box the macaron.

His hand snaked out and plucked up the macaron. Instead of retreating, his index finger extended to brush its pad against her fingertips, while the rest of his fingers curled around the treat. “I feel ridiculous,” he said and pulled his hand back inside the box. “I saw the box and I just… couldn’t resist.”

“If you fits, you sits,” she replied, giggling.

“Absolutely.” The box shuffled forward again and his hand came out to find her ankle. “You weren’t… you weren’t using it for something, were you? There… might be scuff marks inside now. From my claws. Sorry.”

Marinette chortled. “Oh, kitty, this box is all yours. I got it for you.”

Silence for a heartbeat, then the box was thrown upward. In a sweeping movement, Marinette was grabbed, hoisted onto Chat Noir’s lap and then the box descended on both of them. It thumped against her still-out legs and tilted but Marinette didn’t care as Chat Noir’s purr filled the box. “Can’t be a Chat-in-a-box without my best girl, can I?”

Marinette ran a finger down his nose, then scratched his chin. “It’s not a bug-in-a-box.”

“As snug as a bug in a box,” Chat Noir purred and his face dipped toward hers.

“As snug as a bug in the lap of a cat in a box,” Marinette chirped and tilted her head to accept his kiss.

“Um, excuse me,” Tikki said, interrupting as she peeked through the gap between the box and the floor caused by Marinette’s legs. “Before you get too engrossed—” she gave Chat Noir a sweet, imploring smile. “We have cheese and a Plagg-sized box and I was hoping that—”

“Ahh, but of course, mademoiselle,” Chat Noir said, bowing with relish in the small space. “Claws in.”

“Thank Camembert for that,” Plagg announced as he, still surrounded by a flurry of light, pounced on Tikki and spirited her away.

Chuckling Adrien looked back at Marinette. “Where were we?”

She reached for his ears to scratch. “About here.”

His purr rumbled and his eyes closed. Tilting his head back, he leaned into her hands. Feeling daring, Marinette ducked her head and pressed her lips against his throat.

The purr spluttered and Marinette smiled as she let her teeth graze his skin before moving back.

“Sometimes,” he said with half-lidded eyes as he nosed her shoulder. “I think you get more out of this than I do.”

“It’s about even.”

“Well, good, I’m glad. I’d hate for you to think I was just in this for the pats.” His face nuzzled the crook of her neck.

“I am well aware you’re only here because you adore my sinful hands,” she quipped, scratching her fingers through his hair.

“And macarons,” Adrien replied as his lips found the patch of skin between her neck and her shoulder to nibble. “Don’t forget them.”

Marinette fought to keep the game going as he kissed his way her neck and along her jaw. It was hard, especially with his hands unconsciously (or was it a conscious action) kitty-kneading her ribs and the contented purr filling the box. “I… er… um… I…” He reached her cheek, leaving a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth. Close enough to make her turn her head and seek his lips, only to find him returning to her neck. “No fair,” she whined.

He laughed, soft and under his breath, and sent a delighted shiver down her spine. “You know, if I’d known I could take your breath away by adding kissing to our scratching sessions, I might’ve kissed you a lot sooner.”

“Technically,” she said, then gasped as he nipped her. “I kissed you.”

“Technical-smechnical,” he said with an open-mouth kiss on her neck.

She shuddered at the warmth and wet of his mouth. Her fingers tightened against his head as his hands slipped from her ribs to cup her back near her shoulder blades.

Tilting her head back to give him more access to her neck, she bonked her head against the cardboard box. Startled by the noise and the subsequent adjustment of the bumped box, Adrien over-compensated and pulled her closer, which made her unbalance on his lap. She grabbed his shoulders, he grabbed her hips, her legs flailed and forced the box upward, and in turn, the box thumped against them. They toppled, box and all until they thunked against the floor.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked.

Hopelessly tangled in his arms, Marinette giggled.

“I always knew box-ing was a dangerous sport,” Adrien said with a grin. “But it certainly has you falling for me.”

Marinette huffed and mock-frowned at him.

The grin got wider. “Am I card-boring you?”

“Oh, that’s just bad.”

“I’m all boxed—”

Marinette kissed him to stop the puns. Then, as his mouth opened beneath hers, kept on kissing him because she wanted to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I tried really, really hard to find an appropriate moment for Chat-in-a-box for Glaze, but was never able to do it without it feeling weird or thrown in there. Every other cat moment had a purpose, this one was purely gratuitous._
> 
>  
> 
> _Plus kisses._
> 
>  
> 
> _Also, let me know if you have any requests._


	5. S'mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine ponders the kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set somewhere among the epilogue of Glaze

Sabine was no stranger to odd sights. Mother, baker and wife, and witnesser to the many, many akuma which plagued Paris, there was nothing much that could surprise her anymore. Not even being the mother of one half of the dynamic duo of Paris.

Finding that out had been a shock, but brought with it a lot of joy, happiness and pride for her daughter.

It also brought worry. Worry for the future. Worry for the bruises and the pain which lurked in her daughter’s eyes. Worries late at night when the call had come in. Worries for Ladybug and for Chat Noir, as Sabine and Tom clung to each other while glued to the news.

A winter of worries and Sabine was knee-deep in them.

They’d been doing it all alone, and Sabine didn’t even want to think about the time she didn’t know. Now, she could look after her daughter. She could watch over them both. Make sure they ate. Make sure they slept. Make sure they had time for each other and time for their friends. A safe haven, where they could be themselves without hiding.

Any other mother might have been surprised the sight currently residing in her living room.  Her daughter; curled up into a ball as tight as she could go, burying beneath layers of blankets and only her exposed face told Sabine she was there. Her daughter’s boyfriend; on his back as he sprawled over her, his arms as wide as he could go, his legs and torso twisted in what should have been an unnatural position for a human boy, but perfectly suitable for a cat, and his shirt  riding up his belly to be exposed to the sunlight.

Any other parent might have freaked out. A few months ago, Sabine might have too. If it weren’t for the two kwami on the edge of the sofa draped over each other in almost an exact copy of Sabine’s children.

The fact that all four of them were still fast asleep in spite of how much noise Sabine had made opening the door, told Sabine how comfortable, and how safe, they all felt.

Sabine would do anything to help them keep that feeling.

As quietly as she could, Sabine put her shopping bags on her counter and stowed away the shopping. When she was finished, she set about preparing the lunchtime soup.

Once the smell of chicken noodle soup had filled the living room, Sabine crossed the room to the sofa. The sunlight had moved and Adrien had scooted along with it. His back curved almost into a u shaped as he draped over Marinette, his head lower than his chest and down near where Sabine guessed Marinette’s feet would be. She wondered how many cricks he’d have in his back when he woke.

“Adrien,” she called. “Marinette. Time to wake up.”

A noise of protest from the cuddlebug at the bottom of the pile.

“It’s lunchtime,” Sabine said. “Something warm, then you can go back to sleep.”

“Kind’ve smothered,” Marinette mumbled and the whole bundle jostled.

Adrien didn’t move so Sabine put her hand on his chest and shook him. “Adrien. C’mon sweetheart, time to wake up.”

His head came up, green eyes blinked open, complete with the startled kitty-mew.

“Lunchtime,” Sabine said and lifted her hand from his chest.

Adrien, in his half-asleep sun-kissed kitty delirium, rubbed his face against Sabine’s hand in greeting. Sabine smiled and gave him a scratch behind the ear. “Are you hungry?” she asked as Adrien’s purr rumbled. “We have chicken noddle soup.”

“Yum.”

Smiling, Sabine turned and headed for the kitchen to dish up the soup.

“Can’t move,” Marinette called. “Squished. You’ll have to feed it to me, Mom.”

Adrien rolled, sliding off her and onto four limbs. Scooping his glasses from the coffee table, he turned around and crawled so he could see Marinette’s face in the tiny opening of the blankets. “More for me,” he teased and scrambled for the kitchen.

Blankets flew as Marinette tried to wrestle free and pounced on the kitty before he could get too far. They mock-fought with each other, wrestling as they both tried to be first to get their lunch.

Adrien reached the kitchen first, even with Marinette clinging to his back and offered Sabine a bright smile. “Thank you!” he chirped. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks Mama!” Marinette said, grinning over Adrien’s shoulder before he plopped her down on a stool.

Sabine studied them as they ate. Such a different Adrien than what she’s seen of him in his own home. Here, he laughed and had fun carting Marinette around on his back. Wresting and playing games with Tom. Learning how to cook and clean. Taking part in a family. Love and laughter to fill up the void that existed in his own home.

His father didn’t seem to notice the beautiful flower which was blooming in the shadows of his neglect. Well, Sabine saw him. The Dupain-Cheng’s had enough light and warmth to add a kitten to their family.

Sabine hoped it would be enough to keep them both safe in the days to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet


	6. Scratch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More kitty shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between Glaze and Quiver. This one was available on tumblr.

The red dot taunted him. Teased and tantalised. It skipped across the floor, just out of reach. Darting across the floor and weaving through furniture always too far away, but too close as well. Adrien couldn’t catch it.

Marinette’s rug slipped out from under him and sent him spinning away but he didn’t let that deter him from getting the dot. Not even his legs being unable to work in tandem with his arms would stop him. He flailed and fumbled and raced across the floor.

That dot would be his. It would be.

If it’d just slow down for a second. If it’d stay still. He leapt high, pouncing on all fours on the place the dot had been moments ago with a “Ha!” only to see it slip through his fingers.

A hand landed on it and then the dot was on his skin. He slammed another hand over the top. Then tried to bite at it.

“It’s amazing how quickly you lose your mind when confronted with a red dot.”

The dot skipped ahead and Adrien slapped at it. He was not going to allow her to dissuade him from the dot now. “How do you know I’m not doing this to entertain you?”

“Because your butt’s wiggling before you pounce, and that’s involuntary.”

He chuckled and wiggled, just for her. “I happen to know you like it.”

“That’s beside the point,” she said and the dot disappeared.

Adrien span in a tight circle as he looked for the dot before realising that Marinette had put the pointer away. “Awww, I was having fun,” he said, sitting on his haunches. He pushed his glasses back up his nose so he could see her better.

Toes skittering on the floor, she let the chair swivel until she faced her sewing machine, then dragged herself closer to the desk. “I said five minutes and you coaxed thirty out of me.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I did, but now I have work to do.”

He bounced over to her, sitting by her feet and put his head on her lap. “Play with me.”

“This is due in the morning,” she whined, reaching for her thread box.

He pushed her elbow with his head, messing up what she was doing. “You have _hours_.”

“This is going to take hours.”

Wriggling, he inched up in front of her, squeezing through the gap between the desk and her chair. The fact she wouldn’t let the chair roll back showed him how serious she was about getting her work done, but he couldn’t help himself. “Please? I’m cute,” he said, still wriggling until he could straddle her. “Now you can’t ignore me.”

“Not when you sit on my lap like that,” she said and tried to reach past him.

Purring and being as cute as he possibly could, he got in her way. “Pet me. Then I’ll leave.”

Exasperated, she flopped back on the chair. “You’re being adorkable again.”

With another rumbling purr, he rubbed his head on her chin, then kissed her neck. “You can’t resist me.”

She pushed them away from her desk and turned the chair around. Looping her hands beneath his thighs, she picked him up carried him across to the middle of her floor. “I do this, you leave me alone.”

Triumphant, he grinned. “Absolutely.”

She heaved in a sigh and sat on the floor. He knew, as much as she acted disgruntled about petting him, she enjoyed it as much as he did. He rearranged himself so he draped across her lap, giving her unlimited access to everything he liked to have scratched.

Practiced fingers slid against his special itching spots in his hair and within no time at all, he was in scratch-induced heaven on her lap. Lithe hands removed his glasses for him then ran along the bridge of his nose, up over his forehead and down his cheeks to his chin. He extended his neck so she could run her fingers all the way along and feel the rumble in his throat.

Her other hand worked his neck at the nape, fingernails finding those itchy spots which made him tremble and purr. He mewed at her, knowing she liked it when he was vocal when she hit the right spots around his head and his neck.

He could lie here forever, safe in the bliss of her arms.

Then… she struck.

Achingly familiar lightning shot through his body and he reacted. It was involuntary. He had no control. None at all. Not with the way his torso pushed against her knees or his spine curved or his hips rose. He had no control about his legs locking in place. He only knew it was _that_ spot. That wonderfully delightful spot that she promised she’d never touch again and here she was, digging her fingers in. Oh and it was glorious and so much better than he remembered.

He never wanted her to stop.

Never ever.

_Please never stop. Right there, right there. Oh bugaboo!_

His hips inched higher, trying to get more pressure out of her fingers and when she obliged, the noise he made sounded like a mixture of a purring mew and a stuttering moan.

Marinette giggled and stopped and Adrien couldn’t move. “You adorable monster,” he admonished her. “You promised.”

“Purr-fect opportunity.”

Right then, he made a vow to find out her tendency weakness and exploit it. “If I could move, I’d bite you.”

“Promises, promises,” she crooned and booped his nose. “Now would you leave me alone?”

Tom cleared his throat from the attic door where he stood with a tray full of croissants. “I think this falls into the heavy petting category, don’t you?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Does Adrien get his revenge?
> 
> Edit: So its been well over a year and I am sorry I haven't updated. There are a bunch of prompts located 
> 
> [here](http://kryallaorchid.tumblr.com/Short%20Stories/)
> 
> which will include most of what I wanted to post on AO3, including some stuff far into the future.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Scritch by KryallaOrchid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836493) by [Yvi_sama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yvi_sama/pseuds/Yvi_sama)




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